the taste

When young, I did not know the taste of sorrow.

I went up the tower.

 

I went up the tower

to write a poem on pretended sorrow.

By now I’ve completely tasted sorrow, but already

I do not want to speak about it.

 

I do not want to speak about it,

I only say: what a beautiful, cold autumn.

~   Xing Qijia